If You Asked ChaCha
by BOWIEgirl
Summary: If you asked ChaCha, she'd tell you that her best friend is Walter Koontz. If you asked Walt, he'd tell you that he didn't have a best friend.


If you asked Cha-Cha, she'd tell you that aside from Rusty, Ivana, and Amazing Grace, her best friend is Walter Koontz. She would talk about how they met and bonded through their brief but often run ins at Rusty's. That she would intentionally hang around Wednesday and Friday for him to arrive for his lessons. Laughing shyly, she'd make you promise not to point out to the others her and Walt's quick yet meaningful, knowing nods to each other when she'd leave him to Rusty's teaching.

If you asked Cha-Cha, she'd say that yes, Walt had been encouraging. The ever serious cop would occasionally let his guard down if she surprised him outside, a small grin showing slightly before he could get his features under control. Sometimes at Mr Pim's grocery store, the city park, or even the few times they'd find each other on the crowded sidewalks.

She had once placed a hand on his when Rusty was looking away, chatting on the phone, and he'd ever so slightly squeezed three of her fingers, almost unnoticeable, between his thumb and index finger.

If you asked Cha-Cha, she'd explain how they would often spend their late nights together. It was the best time, no prying nieghbors. You mustn't tell anyone, she'd insist, but he would leave the door unlocked, or even slightly cracked. This allowed her to easily slip in without the noise of knocking or calling through the door. His aching leg still bothered him, so he hated getting up to answer the door anyway.

Now would be the time for her to remind you that the door to the apartment, as anyone and everyone who'd ever tried to visit him during the day, was always locked. But for some reason, she'd say with a wicked grin, whenever she happened to try it at midnight, she could always get in. They'd sit around in his living room, Walt with a beer, Cha-Cha sipping some fruity drink she'd concocted herself, and talk about their day. Well, she would talk, and he'd sit quietly, nodding and giving her enough "uh-huhs" to keep going.

If you asked Cha-Cha, she'd hem and haw, beating around the bush until finally, looking over her shoulder despite the fact you two are alone in your kitchen, she'd blurt out excitedly that she believes she is in love with Walt. Gleefully she'd cover her mouth attempting to suppress her giggles, and slowly she would sober as you listen intently to the details of the night she'd finally gathered up enough courage to give him a quick peck on the cheek. How he hadn't flinched or pulled away.

If you asked Walt, he'd tell you that he didn't have a best friend. Not because he couldn't get one, but because he chose not to. If he had to chose someone though, he supposed his old cop partner Tommy would do. The guys in the poker game were merely that. Guys in a poker game. He wouldn't really consider them friends. Good in a small dose with a good amount of booze and money. Then, at the last moment, he'd casually mention how his neighbors friend Cha-Cha liked to drop by a lot. But he didn't really consider her a friend either.

If you asked Walt, he'd tell you he had no idea why Cha-Cha continually chased him. She would always place a hand on his arm when she brushed past him in the hall. She'd smile at him when she passed on the street or ran into him at the park, and it was all he could do to hide his wince.

He remembered once she'd placed a hand on his, and his muscle twitched involuntarily. Obviously even his sub conscience knew enough to be repulsed.

If you asked Walt, he'd roll his eyes and say that at the end of the day, he was just too tired, and his leg too sore, to get up and lock the door. Yes, that did allow Cha-Cha to come in when she pleased.

Naturally you would inquire as to why the door would be locked earlier that day, but unlocked by nightfall. He'd offer you a drink.

Continuing with what he had been saying, he would explain that he simply didn't have the energy to send her away. She was far too stubborn. Instead he'd let her ramble away, not really listening, gulping down his beer to help tune her out with the slight haze it brought.

If you asked Walt, he'd tell you flat out, no hesitation, that he would not, in any way, shape, or form, be interested in Cha-Cha. That despite his best efforts to dissuade her, she kept coming back. If you asked him if Cha-Cha ever tried to clearly get her interest out in the open, he would nod and say that she had kissed him on the cheek. He had been so repulsed, he'd say gruffly, so shocked, he hadn't been able to do anything but turn a bright, angry red.

But.

If Cha-Cha asked Walt, he'd tell her everything he tod you was a lie.

And that would be all she'd need to hear.

* * *

_AN: If you ask me, I think you want to leave a review_


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